Mind Games
by Cairnsy
Summary: Seho, psychiatrists, and the dead twin that may or may not be living in his head.


_Notes: _This is my first Faeries' Landing fanfic. Big thanks to Misura for suggesting this series to me and for her kind words.

**Mind Games.**

He sees his first psychiatrist when he is five. It is what all the wealthy kids are doing.

_So, your name is Seho Yun, correct? What a polite child you are. I don't quite see where your parents got the impression that you are disruptive._

Unlike all the wealthy kids, he hates this unwelcome invasion into his thoughts.

_Seho, your mother tells me that you talked back to your teacher in class today, and that you picked another fight with one of the students. Is there anything you would like to tell me?_

No. Not that anyone ever listens, especially not her. She has pretty hair and wears nice clothes, but she pays more attention to her clipboard than she does him.

Not that he cares.

_How is it, Seho, that you are so polite and quiet at home, but that you are so troublesome in school? It's almost like you're two different people. Why do you think this is?_

He doesn't know. He doesn't even remember school most days, all he remembers is the feeling of being lost. There are too many questions coming from the one person who is supposed to know all the answers.

_I think you're just playing with the wrong type of people._

She doesn't last long.

_Seho Yun? What a nice name. Have you been waiting long?_

Three years or so. At eight, he sees his second psychiatrist. It is what all the wealthy kids are doing. 

_Apparently, your teachers are worried because you've sudden become very quiet at school, and while they commend you for your renewed dedication to your study, they think it's unhealthy that you're isolating yourself._

Unlike all the wealthy kids, he hates this strange person who tries to get into his already crowded head.

_Are you having problems at school?_

No.

_How about your relationship with your parents?_

Fine.

He has the feeling that this psychiatrist wants to blame someone, anyone, but most especially his parents. He doesn't know why, but perhaps it is what psychologists are really paid to do.

And he doesn't like the man at all, but at least he has a nice couch.

_What was this you were saying about experiencing blackouts?_

The psychiatrist is clever, too clever. He had never meant to mention them, he wants to forget what makes him different, not make them an issue, but the words were woven masterfully and he fell into the web. And so, he talks about the blackouts, tells of how he has a habit of 'forgetting' things from time to time.

He doesn't tell of how he thinks that someone else is in control of his body during those times.

It is all written down on a clipboard.

_Your mother said that you had a twin brother that died during childbirth?_

He refuses to see the psychiatrist ever again.

_Seho? Take a seat_.

He sees his third psychiatrist when he is thirteen. It is what all the wealthy kids are doing.

_It says here that you sometimes feel like you're merely a spectator in your own life instead of always being in control?_

Unlike all the wealthy kids, he hates that he might actually need to.

_The way you describe it, it seems as though this might be your way of dealing with situations you feel uncomfortable in._

It makes sense, but it doesn't feel quite right. There is something that isn't being addressed, something so important that there should be no possible way to overlook it …

But then, why is it being overlooked?

_For example, you said that you feel yourself become more confident and forward in situations where that will often be more appreciated, correct? _

Yes. Yes? He thinks so, but it's so hard to remember. Is it the other way around, and it's when he's being loud and friendly but needs to calm down a bit that he finds himself being pushed into the back of his mind?

He doesn't know.

He should know, damn it. This is his own mind, after all.

Isn't it?

_Then perhaps this is just your natural way of overcoming your fear of social situations. It's quite normal, really._

Isn't it?

_Tell your mother that you're fine, if anything you're simply suffering from a wonderfully creative imagination_.

If it is, then why does it feel as though he is sharing it with another?

He sees his fourth psychiatrist when he is fifteen. All the wealthy kids are doing it.

_Seho Yun, wasn't it?_

Unlike the wealthy kids, he hates that it takes him further still away from being normal.

_So, you think that you have another voice inside your head?_

Not a voice, exactly. Voices simply speak; they don't take over limbs and do rash/rational things on their own accord.

_Not voices, but personalities?_

Even that isn't quite right, because it doesn't feel like there are two different parts of him in his mind, but two completely different people. And he knows now who the other one is.

_Seho … have you ever thought about when your two different 'personalities' come into play?_

He can practically hear the quotation marks.

And, of course he has. He is a veteran of shrinks by now, and it's not like his previous one didn't mention this.

_So, you've possibly noticed that you tend to … adapt … yourself to what the situation requires?_

He doesn't quite understand.

_I've been looking through your history, Seho. When this problem first became an issue when you were a child, you fit in perfectly at school with those your age – you were a bit mischievous, perhaps, but that was what the other students seemed to desire. When you were at home, you were the quiet child your parents wanted you to be._

And that's not it. That doesn't make any sense at all. Why won't the psychiatrist actually listen?

_As you got older, you continued adapting. Your problem was that there were more, variable situations to adjust to, and you weren't adapting naturally but forcing yourself to become what was 'demanded' of you. Instead of being yourself you became a set of stereotypes in an attempt to become the person you felt you should be. The perfect son. The dedicated student. The engaging, friendly young man._

No. Not. At. All.

_Seho, you don't have the spirit of your dead brother inhabiting your mind – but you do feel a need to be perfect in everyway to make up for your brother's absence. You are always aiming to be the child you believe your parents want; the student your teachers want; the type of person your friends want. You're still trying to get the mix right, which has lead to some of your problems in the past. _

There is no clipboard, no couch. There should be both, he knows. This man can hardly be a professional considering he has neither, making this all simply a very big mistake.

_We call this survivor's guilt._

Which only works if he feels guilty, which he doesn't. His brother's death was not his fault, it was NOT his fault. In fact, the only one who seems to be trying to blame him for it is the psychiatrist.

He wonders why his twin does not take control now, and tell the man exactly how wrong he is.

_None of these facades you have created are really you – and while I doubt you have noticed, there are not merely two of them – and that's why you sometimes feel disjointed when they come into play. Deep down, you can recognise that the person you are presenting to the world is a poor representation as opposed to your true self. _

And this psychiatrist talks far too much.

_Seho?_

His twin does come in then, and he slams the door behind them when they leave. 

He doesn't see another psychiatrist after that, believing them to be fools who play too easily with the minds of others. He knows what causes his conflicting behaviour, and it certainly isn't a need to conform to every ideal under the sun in an attempt to replace his not-dead brother. Sometimes, people catch on, and Seho says with a smile that it's nothing really – he just shares his body with twin. Not a split personality, he reassures them, but something far more special.

And unlike all the wealthy kids who often claim their own special 'issues', he knows that his is real.


End file.
